James Duke
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Yoruichi’s Blobby Charges
🕑 Added 2022-05-03 00:07:00 +0000 UTC(Slob, Corruption, Health Issues)
Yoruichi waddled down the hallway of her family's personal estate, humming to herself. Her immense belly slapped wetly against her thighs, spraying sweat across the hall. Her breasts slid across her massive stomach, too big to be even partially restrained by her black bodysuit. Meanwhile, her asscheeks devoured the thong-end of her bodysuit; burying the stip of black Fabrice between her greasy cheeks. Yoruichi was, frankly, massive. Near enough 450 pounds of tanned blubber hung off of her formerly slender frame. She huffed and puffed, forcing her body to move despite its physical incapability. She could feel her weight grinding against her joints, making her heart flutter. Yet, she loved it all. Her body was incredible, a sweaty, sloppy wonderland of cellulite and rolls. It was a testament to peace time gluttony. In the absence of any foes to fight, Yoruichi had been free to explore herself and in so doing had discovered that she had quite the unique set of romantic tastes. Fatter, hungrier, slobbier; Yoruichi relished throwing herself into unrestrained hedonism. The shinigami captain was so fat that she couldn't even waddle in her cat form. She had spent years finding the delicious depths to her obese depravity. She continued waddling down hallway, coming upon her favorite part of the estate: the guest rooms.
As the large shihouin heiress approached the guest rooms her nose was greeted by a familiar, if distasteful, smell. It was a reek that would melt paint off the walls. The smell of sweat, food, and grease left to spoil between warm rolls. A stench that was soaked into the very walls of the mansion. Yoruichi smiloaed as the stink became stronger, a misty haze flowing into the hallway from under the doors. Yoruichi had plumbed the depths of her own depravity, and in those depths she had found something. She found that it was not just her own body that she wanted to fatten and spoil, but others’ as well. Two tanned hands, filled with greasy sausage fingers, pushed at the immense double doors to one of the room. The smell that came out hit Yoruichi in an almost physical capacity. What had been a farmyard reek in the hall was now stench made manifest, radiating from her two guests: Rangiku Matsumoto and Rukia Kuchiki. The Shinigami were twin masses of fat, stretching out over the floor of the guest room. The two were better compared to blobs than anything else. Black and white shinigami sheets, meant to somewhat resemble their former garb, had been draped over them. The white of the sheets showed the truth of their condition, covered in food and sweat stains. Beneath the sheets, pale fat jiggled and heaved. Each breath, no matter how labored or shuddered, made their fat dance. Sweat poured out of their rolls, seeping onto the mats over the floor. Medical devices, big and small, lined the rooms with chords of all shapes and sizes running to the women. Beeping and the sound of oxygen intakes filled the room.
“Hello Ladies, who's ready for their mid-morning checkup?” Yourichi asked, excitedly clasping her fat hands together. She looked from one blob to the other, her own chins shaking as she moved her sweaty face. The two blobs lay on their stomachs. Their arms and legs were so packed with fat that hands and feet had almost entirely retracted into their bodies. Rukia and Rangiku were good only for eating, belching, sweating, and receiving attention from Yoruichi.
“I. . .I. . .am. . .BBBBLLLLLUUURRRRREEEPPP.” Rangiku spoke first. She belched a second time, spittle and drool flying from her mouth into the oxygen mask that was taped around her massive face. Her voice, save for her belches, was weak. It was highly possible that Yoruichi needed to turn up her oxygen tanks, in order to further force air into her degraded lungs. Yoruichi waddled up to her immense lover, whose fat stomach raised her to eye height. Rangiku’s long, strawberry blonde hair fell in a greasy tangle. Yoruichi had to force her own fat body between Rangiku’s boulder breasts. Fat slapped against fat as she made her way deeper between the messy cleavage canyon. Rangiku often used her breasts as a trough of sorts, sucking spilling food out from between the meaty canyon. Of course, most of it stuck in there; doomed to mix with sweat and grease. Yoruichi felt the remnants of meals past stain her own tanned body. She enjoyed it, remembering all the fun those feasts had been. She approached Rangiku’s many chins. Rangiku’s hair had grown long enough to fall down past her chins. Playfully, Yoruichi stroked the sweat and grease-packed hair. Rangiku shuddered, attempting to moan in pleasure. Several machines started to beep and then blare wildly, alerting Yoruichi to failing medical systems. Rangiku felt searing pain spread across her chest and began to cough wildly. She couldn’t handle such amorous affection anymore without treatment, her body was held on a knife’s edge and was drastically tilting one way. “Yoruichi. . .aaaahh. . .it hurts. . .so good.” She whined and moaned, grunting through the heart pain and muscle spasms. “I. . .UUURRRRRPPP. . .love it.” She belched out the words even as she started to lose consciousness. A far sharper, warmer, searing pain brought her back from true death. One of the failsafes had triggered and sent a jolt of electricity through her heart.
“Awww, my poor princess.” Yoruichi slowly removed the oxygen mask to kiss Rangiku’s plump lips. As she kissed her blobby lover, Yoruichi placed a nasal plug into Rangiku’s nose. Next, she pulled down a long tube. “Why don’t you eat a little to help recover.” She gave the feeding tube to Rangiku, who began to noisily slurp down the food. Yoruichi felt Rangiku’s body shudder as she slurped at the fattening feed. Some of it dripped and ran from the sides of her mouth, slopping down onto her many chins. Excitedly, Rangiku’s fingers wiggled in their fatty prison. Yoruichi smiled, lost in admiration for the women in front of her. She would have done more, had not another belched reminded her that she had a second charge to take care of.
“Bllluuuuurrruuuurruup. . .did you. . .forget. . .UUUURRRRRPPP. . .about me?” Rukia wheezed, coy despite the mess that surrounded her. She groaned as pain shot through her. She sucked deeply from her oxygen mask, sweating bullets. Yoruichi smiled, shaking her wet, sloppy hips as she waddled over. Rukia’s face was red, likely due to her blood pressure spiking or just being incredibly turned on. Either way, the blush deepend when Yoruichi ran a hand across her chubby face. Rukia, despite weighing more than several tons, had not lost her inner fire. Rangiku wanted to be pampered to death. Rukia, on the other hand, wanted to live dangerously and use the energy to fuel her perverse desires. For her, slobby living was just one way to court the affections of Yoruichi. Rukia nuzzled Yoruichi’s hand with her heavy cheeks. “Your. . .oooh. . .looking. . .MMMMLLLUURRRUUUUUPPP. . .fatter today.” She belched with enough force to shake the room. Rukia had gotten very, very good at expelling the pent up gasses within her body. Her deep, rumbling belches shook the walls of the mansion. All to call Yoruichi to her. Rukia loved being fat and slobby, not having to care about anything except finding ways to further degrade herself. Yet, her one wish was that she could still use her arms. Her fingers and arms struggled against the built up rolls, eager to caress Yoruichi back. Yet, she could hardly move her blobby appendages. With so much fat, they were little better than bloated stumps.
“You're always so much trouble.” Yoruichi winked before kissing Rukia. Soon, their lips intermingled, with Yoruichi sending her fat hands on little exploratory missions into Rukia’s rolls. Their sweat dripped and bounced off of one another. Yoruichi didn’t mind that she now had the stink of two different women upon her. It felt nice just to press her, comparatively, smaller body against a mass of such fat. "A woman who turned the entire Soul Society upside down by her very existence." Yoruichi broke away to speak. She tickled Rukia’s chins, feeling the grease that lubricated the fat. Rukia smiled, coyly enjoying the physical attention. Once again, she longed to be able to stretch her arms so that she could further encase Yoruichi in blubber. She wanted to swamp her lover in her disgusting folds, dragging her into a sweaty abyss from which there was no escape.
"Only. . .because of. . .BBBBUUUURRRRPPPP. . .you.” Rukia belched into Yoruichi’s face. The immense shinigami looked rather pleased with herself, especially watching the lavender haired beauty wipe the bits of slobbe off of her face and clothes. Rukia loved her body and the various smells and secretions it made. Moreover, she loved spreading them all to other people. “Your. . .UUURRRRRPPP. . .tastes.” She would have said more, but was overtaken by a fit of coughing. Her body seized and shook, jerking forward and back as the unhealthy blob of fat continued to strain her lungs to get any air. Yoruichi cooed and held Rukia’s fat face, calmly stroking the chin folds. Rukia coughed with enough force to shake even Rangiku, who tore herself away from her feeding tube just long enough to make sure that Rukia was ok. Within their fatty prisons, Rukia’s thickened fingers and toes splayed in all directions. Propped up by her belly, it was almost like she was suspended in the air. Her fingers slid against the even thicker walls of her arm fat. Slowly, she settled down, allowing for Yoruichi to place the nasal plug into her nose. Rukia breathed deeply from the cool, soft air that flowed into her nose. Fresh oxygen was maybe the one pure element of her body that was left.
“Here, here.” Yoruichi drew something from her pocket. “This will calm you down a bit. Fatty needs her medicine.” Instinctively, Rukia opened her mouth to accept Yoruichi’s gift. It was a cigar. Dark brown, tightly rolled, and fattest around the middle, the cigar tasted and smelled absolutely acrid. It was the kind of cigar that could fill a room with black smoke after only a couple puffs. Rukia was mixed on the taste, but it was worth it to please Yoruichi. Anything to draw the catlike beauty closer to her. Preemptively, Rukia sucked on the cigar, her slobber dampening the end. A click of a lighter and sudden warmth told Rukia that she could begin sucking in earnest. She drew the smoke into her mouth, puffing it out on either side. For all the world she looked like an immense pig that had been let loose in a smoke shop. Yoruichi fluffed the bottom most roll of Rukia’s face while the fatter woman puffed and sucked on the cigar. Once Rukia had a few turns, Yoruichi took her own puff. “Quite the taste. I can tell what is you and what is the cigar.” She winked before stuffing it back into Rukia’s puffy lips.
“Hey now! I think. . .oooo. . .I should. . .have a try.” Rangiku spoke up, allowing the feeding hose to drop between her massive breasts. The hose continued to pump, spraying thick fluid between her breasts. Not that she minded, her breasts were already swampy from the constant sweat; what was a bit more liquid. Leaving Rukia, Yoruichi waddled over. She grabbed the hose, chugging for a moment or two, and shut off the pump. A second cigar was produced and given to Rangiku. She gladly accepted it, happily working her tongue over the foul rod. It was soon lit and her flabby face was shaking in the attempt of sucking as much smoke as she could. Clouds of thick, acrid smoke filled the guest room. Hacking coughs and wheezes sounded down the hallways as the two unhealthy women worked at the cigars. In the midst of it all was Yoruichi, making sure that Rangiku and Rukia continued their debauchery.
